Stubborn Love
by Wesley Smiles
Summary: Follows the story of Madrigal Hawke, and her trials and tribulations in Kirkwall. Friendship, adventure, senseless violence and her stubborn love for a chantry brother. Rating is subject to change.
1. Chapter 1 - Getting Started

**AN: **Welcome to my new project while we wait for Dragon Age Inquisition. I decided to make an OC to give Sebastian Vael a little love, since he finds so little of it. If you're not into OCs, don't read. Later on it's very possible things will get smutty. :)

Let me know what you think! I tend to keep my fanfictions to myself, so any kind of review (even if it's just blatant hate) is welcome.

Thanks!

Chapter One:

Getting Started

"Look at you both. Matching scowls. Don't worry, we'll find something –someone- better." Madrigal said, trying to make peace.

Garret hadn't appreciated Carver's comment about them being _his_ templar's they were running from. Neither had she, but she'd grown to expect it. In many ways, she admired his restraint. When it was just the two of them, without the oldest Hawke's sharp, yet almost fatherly, gaze flicking between them, Carver could be even harsher.

"We need this, Mads." Garret said after a silent glance passed between them.

"I'll say." Grumbled Carver. "It's either this, or..."

"Or what?"

"Marrying you off to some vicious, cut-throat yet alarmingly handsome politician, of course." Garret said, lightly. He yanked her ponytail and she squeaked, batting him away.

"I'd rather be eaten by darkspawn."

"Perhaps a slaver, then?" Carver cut in.

She smiled. If they could still team together to tease her, their relationship couldn't be too far beyond repair despite recent events.

Jokes aside their money situation was dire. More than once she'd wandered past The Blooming Rose and thought that maybe, only maybe, getting her ass pinched and serving drinks wouldn't be _so_ bad. Even if it only meant to lighten her load a little. She could battle along side her brothers well enough, daggers flying, but she knew it made them uncomfortable having her in the middle of the fray. Especially after Bethany.

"Wait a minute... Gamlen!" Carver said suddenly. They'd already begun to walk away from the rude dwarf. "He's got a head for this garbage. Maybe he can talk to Batrand. He knows _some_ people. After last week we need all the coin and influence we can get."

He wasn't wrong.

"You catch more flies with honey – but Gamlen's bullshit _could_ work too." Garret glanced at Madrigal, searching for her opinion.

"Hmm... he's not exactly reliable, is he?" She remembered an argument they'd had a few nights ago. Gamlen had been swearing up and down he'd found a good match in a highborn lady, for Carver of all people. Mads had been surprised Carver had even agreed to meet her, but when they'd shown up they'd gotten accosted by a group of debt collectors who were using some plot she didn't care to know the details of to get their uncle out into the open.

"Well, he did get us into Kirkwall, didn't he?" Again, Carver wasn't wrong, as much as she hated to admit it. She bit her lip. It wasn't only relying on Gamlen, it was working with that snobby little gimp from earlier. Though they'd dealt with worse this past year...

"What else can we do?" He said while she thought. "We're losing ground. And I don't fancy waking up in the gallows."

"Nothing like the ever present fear of persecution to send us into our kind uncle's arms." She grinned. "We could talk to him, I suppose. We'll get by either way, we always have before."

"All that painful optimism is the reason you're my favorite." Garret reached up to pull her pony tail again, but she ducked forward so he grabbed thin air. Carver rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, but suddenly someone cut through the three of them.

Garret's hand flew to his side, and he spun around. "Hey!"

Madrigal's hand flicked to one of her daggers, something that had become habitual at any minor sign of danger. She watched a man with hair bright orange dart away through the crowd, and followed her brother's queue to begin chasing him. How tactless. When she went pick-pocketing she was a _lot_ more subtle. Most of the time. Besides, if he had any idea of her brother's idea of mercy, he wouldn't have even dared.

They rounded the corner just in time to see a golden haired dwarf approaching the now terrified thief, who was pinned against the wall with a single arrow – or was it a bolt? She felt giddy, she hadn't seen a weapon like that before.

The dwarf spoke to the thief, took back the pouch of coin, and then yanked out the bolt leaving him to stumble away. He swaggered over to them. He exuded confidence and capability, curly little hairs on his chest as golden as they were on his head. His eyes looked vaguely amused, much like Garret's usually were. He threw the pouch back with a grin, and her oldest brother caught it without any trouble.

"How do you do?" He said, spinning the bolt around between his fingers. "Varric Tethras, at your service."

Madrigal instinctively opened her mouth to introduce herself – a politeness that had been drilled into her by her mother since she was a little girl, but a look from Carver sent her silent.

Varric paused for a moment, and when none of them said anything he carried on.

"I apologize for Bartrand. He wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw."

"But you would?" Garret said, still a little suspiciously.

"I _would_. What my brother doesn't realise is that we need someone like you. He would never admit it either – he's too proud. I, however, am quite practical."

He spoke with a silver tongue, like their father used to. All charm and charisma.

Garret began to question him, but Madrigal could tell from his tone of voice that he liked Varric as much as she did. Carver still looked a little unsure.

Varric told them he'd heard of Garret. Apparently a year's worth of dodgy underground work goes a long way.

"You must have heard of my siblings, too then?"

"A little. But not as much as you, messere." He looked curiously at Madrigal and Carver. "How do you do, little lady? I've seen you around high town, working the crowds."

"I wasn't meant to be seen." She smiled at him though, widely. She did that a lot.

"My lips are solemnly sealed."

"Working the crowd? What does he mean _working the crowd_?" Carver said.

"Oh, you know. Singing a song here, plucking some coin there. Don't worry, I've kept myself out of trouble... please don't tell Mother."

"Can't leave you alone for a second."

"Either way, your siblings are certainly welcome to join us, by all means." Varric said, dripping sincerity.

"Oh, I'm going." Carver said straight away. "Without this expedition we won't last the year."

Mads stayed silent. She would go too, but there was no point in arguing about _that_ now and it would become an argument. She'd heard too many exciting stories and songs to be kept away from the Deep Roads, that was for sure.

"You're going awfully far out of your way just to hire another guard." Garret said, sharp as ever. He really did live up to their family name. Hawke like in every sense. Mads took more after the Amell side of her family, dainty and soft featured. Carver was an awkward mix.

Varric smirked then. It seemed the conversation was going exactly as he wanted it. He revealed the appealing twist – they wouldn't just be any other hired guard, they'd be _partners_. Put in money to fund the expedition, reap the rewards at the end. Mads could almost taste the very shiny, very pretty, treasures they could find down there.

"Sounds interesting." Garret said eventually, after more questions that Mads had begun to zone in and out of. Her mind, when it came to these things, was fairly one track. Do the thing. Get the reward. As long as there wasn't anything morally suspect about the thing, her answer would always be a resounding yes. "But if I had any gold, I wouldn't need this job."

Mads piped up. "I can always-"

"No." Carver said. He had rightly assumed she'd been offering to steal more regularly.

"You need to think big." Varric said. "The treasure you find in the Deep Roads could set you and your family up for life."

"Come on." Carver cut in. "The dwarf makes some sense, no offense. Look, you started this, and it's a good idea. Certainly better than ending up in the gallows."

"We wouldn't end up in the gallows, anyway." Mads said shortly, feeling defensive. "... But he's still right, brother. It _is_ a good idea."

"We work together, you and I. And before you know it, we'll have all the capital we need." Varric looked pleased for the added support.

Garret mulled over his options, asked two more questions, then glanced back at them. Carver raised his eyebrows expectantly. Mads cocked her head to the side. He knew that it was up to him, they were only there to offer their opinions and in Mads' case, support. He'd always liked playing head of household with their father, but ever since it had been thrust upon him he'd been a little bit more hesitant in some larger decisions.

"The templar's _have_ been sniffing around, brother." Mads said eventually. "Varric's right, with a bit more coin it would be easier to..."

Garret cut her off.

"Well, why not? It's not like we have anything better to do."

Aveline was the obvious choice as far as places to start earning coin. She always had some job lying around that involved killing people who in all likeliness deserved to die.

Mads kept glancing side ways at Varric as they walked to visit her. It wasn't just that she very rarely saw dwarfs, there was an over arching sense that she should _not_ be trusting him – but he was just so damn likeable.

"Have you fallen for me already, Little Hawke?" He said.

"For you? No." She replied, without missing a beat. "For your pretty crossbow though..."

"Bianca."

"She has a name?"

"Of _course_ she does, Bright Eyes."

"Bright eyes?"

"I'm trying to settle on what to call you. I'll think of something soon. Something good, don't you worry."

She laughed.

"Do you give everyone you meet nicknames?" Carver asked.

"Certainly." Varric paused, and sized him up. "Junior."

Mads bit her lip, stifling herself as he scowled. Scowling seemed to be the only expression he was capable of these days. Maker, she wished he'd smile a little.

She tried to talk to him about swords and make fun of Gamlen, _that_ always seemed to cheer him up a little, but he wouldn't take the bait. His mood swings were getting worse. She shrugged, and smiled reassuringly to Garrett when he glanced back at them. Carver had no idea how much their brother worried about him.

They were passing the Chantry when they heard it.

"_Sebastian! _Stop this madness!" Grand Cleric Elthina's voice was unmistakable. Mads had heard it many times over the last few years when Mother pulled her along to various services. She believed she'd fallen to sleep to it once or twice. "The Chantry cannot condone revenge, Sebastian!"

This wasn't a pretty Chantry speech she was giving. She was flustered, and speaking to a man who must've been Garret's age – maybe a year or so younger. It was hard to tell, he had almost flawless bronze skin.

"It is my right, my _duty_, to show these assassin's there is no where in the Free Marches to hide." His voice was gravelly, and full of hurt. That accent... could he be from Starkhaven? His armor was very fancy.

He began to stroll away from the Grand Cleric, but her brow was furrowed in out rage. She ripped the piece of paper he had been sticking up from the board.

"This is murder."

In a flash, and to Mads' shame, before she could react, the man – Sebastian – drew the bow from his back and shot an arrow straight through the paper, nailing it back to the board. The Grand Cleric mouth fell open.

"_No_." He said. "What happened to my family was murder."

And with that he turned and walked straight past them. His raging eyes met Mads' when he passed her, and his eyes flicked momentarily down to her hand which was poised on her dagger. They were blue. So blue for a moment she was sure they couldn't be real. She withdrew when he was safely out of sight.

"Well, _that_ was dramatic." Garret said, plucking at a loose thread on his sleeve. "Should we see what the fuss was about?"

"Do you think she's okay?" Mads wondered aloud, voice soft. Seeing little old ladies being yelled at reminded her too much of Mother and Gamlen. The Grand Cleric stood to the side of the board, composing herself.

"The Maker will set her straight, come on."

They approached the board and Garret ripped down the poster. His grey eyes – Mads' eyes, one of the only features they shared other than their general light hearted demeanor – searched the paper, and he raised his eye brows when he was done.

"Well?" Carver snapped.

"Our vengeful young ser is a _prince_."

"You're kidding." Varric took the paper from him. "This'll certainly make a story."

Mads read it over his shoulder.

"_A grave crime was committed against all free-thinking men and women in the Free Marches. The ruling Vael family in Starkhaven –my family- was brutally murdered, down to the youngest babe in arms. This massacre was carried out by members of the Flint mercenary company. I hereby offer a bounty on the head of each Flint Company soldier in the Kirkwall vicinity."_

_-Prince Sebastian Vael_

The words were scrawled neatly, in flamboyant curving handwriting. The writing of someone who had been trained to write letters. A _prince_. She should have guessed in the first place.

"We've done worse than kill murderers." She said brightly. "A bounty on _each_ head."

Garret nodded. "We'll put the word out and track them down."

"Allow me." Said Varric. "My connections are bursting at the seams. Also... make sure you come and visit me tonight, Hawke. I'd like to chat."

"How forward." Garret said, rolling up Sebastian's note and tucking it in his robe. "Won't Bianca be jealous?"

"Bianca? Never."


	2. Chapter 2 - Pleasantries

Chapter Two:

Pleasantries

Home was as filthy as it had been the day they'd left, but Mads had gotten used to it. Garret went out to see Varric at The Hanged Man ("Don't even think about following me. You'll catch something."), Carver brooded by the fire and Mads spoke softly to their mother, recounting the days events.

"I don't know how I feel about this expedition..." Leandra said.

"Don't worry about it so much. If it puts food on the table, then..."

"It just doesn't sound safe."

"I know." Mads smiled. "But we're hardly safe as we are now. High risk, high reward."

Her mother didn't meet her gaze. She'd had trouble doing so since Beth died. They'd had the same heart shaped face, straight nose and wide grey eyes. Mads was perhaps what Bethany would have been like if she wasn't born a mage. She carried her older sister's aura of playful innocence, without the underlying fear and heavy heart.

Leandra looked tired. She muttered something about Gamlen going on about Kaz, Garret's mabari, all day long. Mads put her to bed. Gamlen had already fallen asleep in his chair, drunk, but Carver showed no signs of sleep.

They sat in familial silence, only speaking once or twice about letter's Garret had gotten. Varric was right. This city was bleeding for quality paid help. Maybe it would be different now that they didn't have that elf hanging over them, taking most of the profit they made. She wondered if Garret would go back to her. She hoped not. They could manage on their own now, with Varric's contacts.

Time was ticking on. She fixed her gaze on Carver.

"You should go to bed." She said, idly. She had a book in her lap – an excuse to stay up. He didn't.

"Pfft, surely I'm the one who should be telling _you_ that, little sister."

"I'm not so little anymore." She grinned.

"You're right about that." He sighed, and sat down next to her. "Looking at you makes me feel old."

"Carver, there's barely a year between us."

"So old. Decrepit. Maybe I'll die of old age before the templar's persecute us for harboring him."

She laughed despite herself. "I wish you wouldn't keep saying things like that. It hurts his feelings."

"His _feelings_? There is one thing I've never known our brother to have and it's those."

"Just because he makes light all the time doesn't mean he's got no feelings."

"Maker, you've always been such a bleeding heart."

"And you've always been an ass." She batted him lightly on the arm. "You act like you don't care about him, but you'd never stay up this late waiting for _me_ to come home."

Carver's face reddened. Caught.

"You're different." He said, not bothering to deny. "There isn't an order of people systematically hunting you down. Besides, I wouldn't have to stay up and wait because we'd come out to find you and drag you home."

"Ah, yes, my very own templars."

"Seriously, though. Just because I think mages belong in the Circle doesn't mean I want my own brother there."

It was hypocritical, Mads knew, but sweet as well.

"Don't tell him I said any of this."

"Course not." She would. She told Garret almost everything. She derived great pleasure from the gruff smiles he gave her when she revealed Carver secretly, at the end of the day, really did care about him. "Go to bed. I'm reading anyway. I'll wake you up when he comes home."

"Don't bother waking me. I'll know. He'll be drunk and want to tell me all about his new best friend."

"They _were_ getting along, weren't they?"

"A little too well."

He got up and disappeared into the back room. She heard him moving around, the _thunk_ of his sword hitting the ground, and then silence except for Gamlen's drunken snoring. Once she'd dropped a bottle and it had smashed on the floor and he _still_ hadn't woken up.

* * *

When she was sure everyone was asleep, she got up and blew out the candle she read by. She crept across the room and grabbed her belt, fixing it to her waste. Her hands brushed the tops of her daggers like usual, just to reassure her, to make sure they were still there. She wound her hair up into a loose bun. Her hair was deep, rich chocolate brown, inherited from her mother, who often touched it, gushed over it, and expressed how badly she wished her hair were like that again, instead of white.

"But I don't know _where_ those curls come from." She'd said one day, while brushing it. She began to list distant relatives that might've had naturally curly hair, but she couldn't be sure they weren't liars.

Mads pulled on her boots, great long brown things that ended just above her knee. She'd had to take them off to make it look like she was settled in for the night before Garret left.

Lastly, she put on a cloak, fastening the little sword clip under her chin, and lifted the hood to cast a shadow over her face. She hated wearing cloaks, but it was either this or put up with leery comments from the men of Kirkwall.

She left the hovel in a routine manner, brushing off her leggings. As though she wasn't sneaking out. As though she was doing something perfectly legitimate. Something that wouldn't make Garret feel guilty and furious, make Carver scold her and her mother hit her over the head with a rolled up scroll.

Aveline had jobs for them. Typical stabbing and arresting work. Good work, Mads could begrudgingly admit, no matter how tedious she found skulking around the shore for criminal hideouts.

She'd been glad to see Aveline too. They had bonded over sharing a famous namesake. She didn't get out much, too busy guarding. Mads knew Garret still saw her regularly. It was hard not to grow attached to the orange haired soldier after what they'd all been through together. She had done her part in helping them escape the Darkspawn, by far the fiercest warrior Mads had ever seen. Though she couldn't say she'd had the pleasure of seeing many.

The cool night air made her feel alive, a steady beat of excitement trickling through her as she made her way through Lowtown towards the docks.

If Aveline caught her now... or one of the other guards. She gulped. There were only so many favors the swordswoman could do for them before she ran out of pull with the Guard.

As she approached the docks, the air turned from pleasantly cool to chilly. A small wind picked up. She pulled her clock tighter around her. The smells got worse as well, mixed with the stench of seaweed. Mads liked the sound of the ocean, and it was always pretty, sparkling in the moonlight, but she wasn't one for unpleasant smells.

She tucked herself away in an ally and waited.

* * *

There were two kinds of templar. The kind ones, who do what they deem necessary with empathy and respect. And the cruel ones, who take advantage of their position. Mads always thought she could tell which was which by the way they walked, the air about them.

Eren was the cruel kind. She watched him now, with two of his companions, approach their meeting place and fold his arms, talking loudly to them. He threw his head back and laughed, not a single sense of subtlety or sensitivity to the nature of their meeting. She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the shadows.

One of his friends clapped him on the arm and pointed at her. She took down her hood and smiled weakly.

"Ser Eren." She said, "I'd say it's nice to see you, but then you'd call me a liar."

His friends sneered, while he laughed at her.

"Lady Madrigal." He said. He rested a hand on his sword, his stance was threatening despite calling her a lady. She wasn't impressed. "Let's not bother with pleasantries. The coin?"

She threw a pouch to him. 10 sovereigns in all. She'd had to save up her share of months of work. It was ridiculous. 10 sovereigns was _nothing_ to little rich boys like Eren. She was sure this display was simply him flexing his power muscles, showing off to his friends, showing that it didn't matter if he came from wealth, he could acquire it as well.

He tipped it up side down into a gloved hand and began to count. She didn't like the looks one of his friends was giving her, so she huffed, and looked out at the ocean while Eren counted, glad she was mostly concealed in her cloak.

"Excellent." He said finally. She wondered how on earth he even passed his training. Wasn't it supposed to be rigorous? "And that'll be 15 next time."

Her jaw dropped.

"_15!_ I barely scraped together 10." Her fists balled at her side, and with great effort she resisted drawing her daggers.

"Hmm," He replied fingering the little string holding the pouch closed. "That's not really _my_ problem, is it?"

"You-" She bit her tongue, struggling to keep her temper in check. She was usually the picture of composure, but when it came to people abusing their power...

"Me?" He laughed. "This is how it _works_, Serah. How it's worked since the start. I tell you what I want, and you give it to me, or else your brother gets an unpleasant house call in the morning."

"You don't understand. I _can't_ get that much on my own. Not without starving myself, or not contributing to the family funds. I-"

"Well, maybe we could cut a deal. My friend here, Hank, seems to have taken a liking to you... Maker knows why. How about you go entertain him a little while, and then we'll renegotiate the price."

"I'd rather drown." She spat, while Hank begun to take off his gloves. Her response was disgustingly similar to the one she'd responded with earlier that morning when her brothers were teasing her, and it just made her hate him more.

"Really? You'd rather your brother with a heart of gold got taken away? Don't forget that we _know_ what he is."

She could see it. Eren wouldn't care. He wouldn't give a second thought to dobbing her entire family in. Then Garret would be taken, for sure, and Carver and her would be investigated, not to mention their Mother. She wouldn't be able to handle losing another child. Not her oldest.

"I could turn you in." She said, but she knew it was hopeless, they'd had this conversation before. He didn't even bother answering her. What if she reported him to Meredith? What would she care for the word of a Ferelden refugee who'd spent a year working with smugglers? But maybe... "I could go to the Grand Cleric."

Eren raised an eyebrow, but the other two laughed. Hank took a threatening step forward, but Eren raised an arm to stop him. "That's a new one." He said. "Really grasping at straws, aren't you? Listen, and listen really well, Serah."

He lashed forward suddenly, a thick hand curling around her forearm and pulling her to him. If he hadn't been a templar, she would've danced away from him in an instant, leaving him with nothing but a slit wrist, but she couldn't. Not with those other two here. Not without risking Garret.

"The Grand Cleric is an old, blithering woman. As incompetent as she is a fool. Even if you went to her and she believed you, and for all I care, she might. Any word she said would hold no weight with the Knight-Commander. Even the Viscount wouldn't give a shit."

"Grand Cleric Elthina appointed her Knight-Commander in the first place, didn't she?" Mads hissed back.

"Maker, listen to this woman _talk_. Threatening us, like you've got an ounce of power over us at all, girl. Be honest with yourself. There is no doubt in either of our minds, that the Grand Cleric wouldn't believe you. Especially without proof."

"How about a witness?" An arrow flew through the night, and landed in the ground between Eren's feet. He swore, shocked, and Mads took the opportunity to wretch her arm from his hand swing around his side, boot colliding with his rib cage.

From there, more arrows fired, and after the third one didn't hit she was sure their shooter was missing on purpose. She halted mid swing of her dagger and instead leaped away from them, breathing heavily from the surprise. No good could come from hurting them now.

"You bloody bitch! I told you not to bring anyone!" Eren rounded on her but before he could even get close, yet another arrow whizzed between them. This time, eyes followed where it had come from to see Sebastian Vael, standing in all his shining glory with his bow drawn and brow creased, furious.

"He's not with me." She said, clutching her twin daggers tightly.

"Hold your ground!" He snarled, marching forward and stopping between Mads and him. "Have you no shame? Taking advantage of an innocent girl-"

"Innocent! Bah!" Eren's sword was drawn now, and Mads' body was coiled like a spring, tension making her muscles ache. She was one part ashamed at being rescued like this, and two parts dazzled by her rescuer. He'd saved her like a hero from one of her stories_._ "Have you _seen_ this girl? She's hardly innocent, out at this hour."

"I've seen enough to know who here is at fault." Sebastian said. He spoke well, she thought, all that time being brought up in a palace. "Grand Cleric Elthina will hear of this."

"No!" Mads said suddenly, darting forward between them. A sick smile crossed Eren's face. "Please, Ser. I was wrong when I was threatening them."

"You..." Sebastian slacked his bow slightly. His eyes met hers, brilliant blue and deep grey. The desperate expression on her face said it all. "You're only saying that because they threatened your family."

"And we've come full circle." Eren cut in. "This girl is harboring an apostate. We're merely exercising our rights, Ser. But it _was_ gallant of you to try to defend this criminal without knowing the full story."

"I pay them." She said, ignoring Eren and trying to hold Sebastian's gaze. "I pay in coin them not to take my brother away. Please. This was a mistake. Eren, I'll pay the 15, no complaints."

There was a pause between them all, during which Sebastian's tense battle ready stance began to relax slightly, but a frown remained on his face. Behind her, she could hear the templar's chuckling at the turn of events. Who would've thought, now she was _defending_ the templars.

"Very well. Let's see this doesn't happen again, shall we?" Eren said. Hank began to grumble, but Eren waved him off.

"Of course, Ser." Mads felt embarrassed. And defeated. She wondered what might have happened if Eren had cornered Carver instead of her those few months ago. All he'd had to say was a simple 'I know' and she'd been paying him off ever since.

Eren winked at Sebastian, and they left.

* * *

Silence followed, while Mads tried to put her thoughts together and Sebastian searched her face for some kind of explanation. She owed him one. He'd put himself on the line for her. But she couldn't think of a thing to say, and he spoke first.

"It seemed to me they wanted a little more than coin." His voice was even, quiet, and it was the first time she'd heard it without fury behind it. If it wasn't for the accusation behind it he might've sounded soft and gentle.

"Thank you." She said, firstly. "Really, I snapped at them, and I shouldn't have. They... made me so angry."

"They were trying to take advantage of you." He said this pointedly, like he thought her simple.

She shrank back from him. "I know."

More silence. He sighed. Her heart was beating furiously, fear clawing at her insides. Could she trust him? Would he tell? Telling her brothers was one thing, but if he informed the Grand Cleric and reported them, Meredith would arrest Garret regardless.

"My name's Sebastian. Sebastian Vael." He put his bow away, and held out his hand. She knew this already, of course, and wondered why he didn't introduce himself as a prince. _Literally a prince in shining armor. Maker, Mads, you're in deep this time._

"Sebastian." She tried his name on her lips. The three syllables felt good. It wasn't good that they felt good. She was definitely attracted to this man. "Madrigal."

She didn't offer her last name. He might recognize it. She let him take her hand and shake it. It enveloped hers, and the leather from his fingerless gloves pinched her fingers.

And as she watched him she thought about what she knew of him – that he was a prince with a strong sense for right and wrong, who liked swooping in to rescue maidens from templars, he had family ties that had recently been brutally broken... she could use that, she thought, use his grief. She licked her lips and planned her manipulation. She would have to tread carefully.

"I'm not usually this vulnerable." She said. "I guess family brings that out in people."

"I suppose..." He said. "Listen, I... I'm not exactly sure of the full story, I know you've got someone you're trying to protect and-"

"A mage." She said, wanting to be as honest with him as possible before extorting his better judgment. "He was telling the truth. I'm trying to protect a mage. Ser Eren found out and approached me. He said we could make a deal."

"All the same, do you not think your mage would be better off in the circle?" Sebastian said after a heavy pause. He suddenly looked a lot less attractive to her.

"I know." She said dramatically, woefully, eyes going wide and fluttery. "It's just... we're family."

He seemed to struggle with this, so she carried on. If he wanted a damsel, she would sure as hell give him one.

"He's all I've got. If he got taken away, I don't know what I'd do."

"I understand this must be hard for you." He said kindly, "But surely there's some trade you can take up. We can't let those templars walk freely."

Mads had had enough practice through out her childhood of dodging templars and pretending to be a lady for her Mother to know how to lie competently. Her whole family was full of liars, their father made sure of it. More than once she'd spun a smooth tale to get Bethany out of trouble, who was sometimes too gripped by fear of being sent away to even speak. Lying came naturally to her, but acting, acting was another creature altogether and she still considered herself to be very much in training.

This was why, when her thoughts were spinning and she was trying to grasp at something, anything to keep the Starkhaven prince from turning her, the templars, and by relation, her brother in, she was so proud when tears began to fall freely from her eyes.

On some level she was sure that she was long over due a good cry, and maybe she didn't actually need to reach that far to bring fresh tears. The stress, the blackmail, her Father, Bethany, all piled up within her and she let them flow outwards.

Sebastian's face fell, much like all men's did when faced with a crying person, and she cupped her own cheek in dismay.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She wept. "I don't mean to... it's just I..."

He struggled to find something to say, even reaching up his hand to comfort her and then thinking better and pulling it away.

"You have to understand, he's so strong. He wouldn't fall to a demon." She said, which was true. "He t-t-trained in the Circle in Ferelden." This wasn't the slightest bit true. "Please, I don't have anyone else." Kind of, sort of, half true.

Then she thought of it, the last phrase to really drive it home to the prince.

"Wouldn't you do anything to protect your family?" She said this while sniffling, rubbing her eyes, but she still saw the flicker of sorrow cross the prince's face. She felt a pang of guilt, which she quickly tried to rationalize away. _It's either this or Garret's freedom._

"Yes. I would." He said quietly. "I'm sorry, I've caused you pain."

"No, no, Serah, you saved me from them, you really did. I'm going to tell him. I'll tell him about the deal I've made and we'll figure something out, I promise you." Everything was a lie except for perhaps the first. "I feel silly for crying."

He was silent for a long while, gazing down at her. Perhaps he didn't know what to say. Maker, he was tall. She wiped her tears away and began to dry her eyes, sending him a weak smile. She began to tell him about how desperately she needed to get home, and how grateful she was towards him.

He nodded. "Your business... this business, is your own." He said finally. "Your secret is safe with me."

"I'm eternally grateful to you, Sebastian."

"I don't know if it helps but... the Chantry is always looking for brothers and sisters of Faith."

"I'll... keep that in mind."

There was a slight pause again. He looked like he didn't want to leave her alone, not with what had just happened, but she needed to get away from him. She said thank you one more time, and before he could protest, darted off into the night.

* * *

Sebastian was late back to his room. Very late. The sisters would talk. He brooded slightly as he shed his armor. That girl, Madrigal.

He had recognized her from earlier that day.

She had seen him outside the Chantry, thought he might be planning to hurt the Grand Cleric, he could make her out now clear in his minds eye. He had passed her, fury fueling him, and seen her hand brush across the hilt of her dagger.

When he had calmed down later he had spared her a fleeting thought of admiration. A girl as young as she willing to leap to Elthina's defense – if only it hadn't been him inspiring that fight in her.

He had been rude to the Grand Cleric. And rash. Maker forgive him, he would need to apologize.

And then...

Madrigal had seemed an entirely different person when he saw her at the docks. He had been searching in vain for some of the Flint Mercenaries. It was reckless for him to go alone, he knew that. But he could hardly sit idle. And when he saw her, so small and vulnerable compared to the heavily armored templars he'd felt furious, unable to think of anything else but that, despite being a stranger, this girl had a family just like he did... had.

Still something was off about her story, he knew that much, but he couldn't pin point it. Could he peg the differences on her fear for her mage family member? Or was there something more? He had watched the scene from the shadows, and she had started off with more fire and outrage than hesitance and weakness.

In the pit of his stomach he knew she could have folled him. He was smart enough to see it. But for now, Maker permit, there wasn't anything else he could do. Maybe he would wander by there again every other night to make sure she had kept her promise.

He added her to his list of people to pray for. His family, Grand Cleric Elthina, some less fortunate souls he'd met while living in the Chantry, a few friends he hadn't seen in years, Starkhaven, and now, Madrigal.

* * *

**AN:** Let me know what you think! I won't bother uploading the rest if no one is interested. :)


	3. Chapter 3 - New Friends

Chapter Three:

New Friends 

"Do you remember when we were little and Garret used to collect interesting pieces of driftwood?"

"Sure." Carver said.

"And then he got bored of that and started picking up rocks that weren't gems, but _looked_ like gems."

"Of course."

"My favorite was when he stole all of Mother's buttons and said they were his newest collection."

"Naturally."

"It's like history's repeating itself. But this time it's with lots of interesting people."

"I'm not certain interesting is the right word for all of them."

It had been a whole month since they'd met Varric, and already they were well on their way to the 50 sovereigns they needed. They were currently in the Hightown market. They were doing _so_ well that Garret had thought it appropriate to buy them all a new piece of gear each.

Earlier that day she'd met Isabela for the first time, who was with them now along with Varric. She was eyeing something sparkly at a trinkets stall. Between the ex-Grey Warden, Anders, the Elf, Merrill and now, the pirate, Isabela, things were shaping up to get quite exciting.

"Ooo, look at that hat shop!" Isabela said, looping her arm through Mads'. "Please tell me you at _least_ like shopping for hats."

The 'dusky goddess' had been disappointed at Mads' utter indifference to a dress she held up earlier, hoping to find someone "with assets" to shop with.

"You'll find the Littlest Hawke's interest's are strictly limited to wind instruments, daggers and dwarves." Varric said, winking at Madrigal. He seemed to have settled on a mixture of Littlest Hawke or Little Hawke for her nickname, depending on his mood. They'd become friendly over the past month. It hadn't taken Garret long to trust him at all, and after that his friendship had come easily with Mads. Especially after she'd found out he shared her love for stories. But rather than _reading_ them he loved to tell them.

More often than not she was finding herself accompanying her brothers to The Hanged Man to listen to Varric's tales, most of which seemed lavishly exaggerated. They would swap stories while the others drank, and eventually she would sing them a song to get them dancing. She still didn't have the stomach for any hard drink, despite Varric's insistence that she would make an excellent drunk.

They were generally so pleased to see each other their whirlwind romance had become a running joke between them, much to provoke Carver's disgust.

She got along well with Merrill, too. They could chit chat for hours. She liked hearing about the old Elven customs, and Merrill was just as curious about humans. They didn't talk about her blood magic. It wasn't something Mads approved of, but if Garret trusted her...

Then there was Anders. The one _both_ her brothers didn't seem to trust. Not entirely, not yet. Varric seemed to like him well enough, but her brothers agreeing was enough to make her weary of anything. She'd only spoken to him on a few occasions because of this, but he seemed civil. Once they'd spoken about her childhood as the sister of two mages, but she wasn't one to spill all her inner trauma's to a complete stranger so they kept it brief. He'd seemed the most interested in what she had to say then.

She liked his jokes, anyway.

All in all her brother was gathering a tidy crew, and she was enjoying it immensely.

"Hm, I forgot to tell you. I've got a lead on some of the Flint Company." Varric said to Garret.

Mads' ears perked up immediately. Isabela started teasing Carver, something that had apparently become a routine.

"I'll imagine a prince has a lot of coin to spare." Garret said after Varric gave him a quick over view of the locations he thought they'd be able to flush out some of the mercenaries. "We should relieve him of some of it. It'd only be the right thing."

"Shall we?"

Any other time Mads would have agreed vigorously, but she had made an ultimatum after encountering Sebastian that night.

She would simply never, ever see him again. It would be too much trouble if she did. Either she'd have to lie to keep up the pretense, or she'd be caught out red handed with her apostate brother by her side and then have a _lot_ of explaining to do.

"You'll have to go without me." She said. "Mother needs my help reclaiming our titles or something else I'm not interested in."

"Maybe she has another husband lined up for you." Carver smirked.

"She'll be sorely disappointed. Again. My heart is certainly taken."

"What?" Garret said, Carver's smile faltered as well.

"Oh, you'll like him, brothers." She said. "He's about three feet tall, a real business whizz, oh, and that _chest_ hair."

Isabela hummed appreciatively. "I'd pay to see that." She said wistfully.

Garret tugged on her ponytail, so that her head was bent back and she had to look him in the eye.

"Jokes aside, _is_ there something you're not telling me?"

She burst out laughing and wriggled away. "Maker! _No_, Garret. I'm not even of appropriate marrying _age_."

"He didn't say anything about marriage." Isabela purred.

She blushed then, much to the pirate's delight. Varric was chuckling away, and even Carver looked amused.

"Leave off." She grumbled. "Why not bother Carver about-"

"_Madrigal."_ Carver hissed.

"Why, Carver. I'm shocked. What _is_ his name?" Garret said after a hearty chuckle.

She bid them her good byes, and darted off into the crowd leaving Isabela promising to come and see her later.

* * *

Carver had only been half joking about their mother trying to find her a husband.

While Leandra knew they didn't have much to offer Kirkwall royalty asset wise, she was a smart woman, with a pretty semi-eligible daughter. Making a lady out of Madrigal was easier than expected. She liked to keep her mother happy and if matchmaking was what got her smiling then she would grit her teeth and bare it.

Her mother said it was too early to _actually_ marry her off, but it wouldn't hurt to put her name out there as a young lady who would be coming of age in three short years. They didn't have to know where she was living now, only that she was an Amell and would soon be taking high society by storm. Leandra wanted to make an ember out of her, one that would cast her as mysterious and elusive, and over the next few years coax that ember into a raging fire that assured her many, many proposals.

In the mean time, when Leandra wasn't petitioning to get their mansion back, she was teaching Mads the ins and out of high society life.

It was actually fairly simple. A lot like dueling. Always keep on your toes. Expect the unexpected. Make a man think you could simultaneously run his household, mother his children, and murder his enemies with one look. Be charming, but deadly.

Only ever wear shades that compliment your skin tone. For someone pale and rosy like Mads, these colours were reds and deep greens. Always remember their titles, but forget their names. You must create the illusion that you are much more important than they are, lest they deem you socially disposable.

This worked well for Mads, who didn't care about their names or titles. She played dutiful daughter, and often found there were many perks to her mother's lessons. She was slowly becoming a better actress. Gaining espionage skills that could potentially be useful to her brother and their cause.

Overall, her mother's lessons were few and far between at this stage, though she promised they'd grow more frequent the closer she came to 21, and startlingly useful.

She was balancing a book on her head when her brothers returned, blood on their boots.

Gamlen was set off instantly. Blah, blah, house, blah, blah tidy. Mads barely listened to him anymore.

Kaz perked up at the sight of Garret and waddled over to him.

"He's getting fat. You should take him out more." Their mother chided gently.

"He's not fat! Are you fat boy? Not at all, it's _all_ muscle."

"How'd saving the prince go?" Mads asked.

They went over it briefly. It sounded fairly routine. Kill some mercenaries, get their reward.

It was when they were talking about Sebastian that Garret seemed most interested. There was a look in his eye. The same spark that had been there when he'd met Anders and Merrill.

"Oh, look." She said to Carver. "He wants to adopt him."

Garret waved his hand. "Not yet. He's not ready."

* * *

Mads was beside herself on the way to The Hanged Man. _Not ready... yet._ Maker, she'd have to talk to Sebastian and straighten this all out before he met her and realised she had lied, er, greatly exaggerated, to convince him not to go to the Grand Cleric.

Garret wasn't stupid enough to recruit anyone who would just hand him over, so he must have seen something in Sebastian. Maybe that's why he'd said not yet. The prince wasn't indebted, and didn't know him well enough to him to keep his secret. It just wasn't worth the risk until they could crawl higher up the food chain.

She stepped into The Hanged Man, which even at this early hour reeked of puke. She pulled a face. Usually they all drank and played cards in Varric's room, where the smell was kept almost entirely under control.

"Mads!" Isabela had already adopted the name her brothers called her by. She took this as a good sign, and pushed over to her.

"Watch yourself, you're nothing but tits and arse to the men in here." She said, giving one of the men who had been gazing appreciatively at Madrigal's behind as she came over a dirty look.

"Listen, I wanted to ask you something." The pirate spoke to her like they were close friends already.

"Go ahead." She leaned on the bar next to her, but only ordered a weak wine.

"Are you a virgin?"

Later on in life, Mads would reflect on this moment and be surprised at how shocked she was Isabela had even asked, but currently she'd known the woman for the morning of a day, and despite hearing about her dirty mind, and body, it was an entirely different thing to experience it first hand.

"Look at those red cheeks." Isabela pinched one of them. "Oh you _are_, aren't you? This is so precious."

"I'm only eighteen!" Mads felt embarrassed, as though her own lack of experience was a mark of failure in front of someone like Isabela.

"Shush, I was only curious."

Then, they did something that Mads hadn't done with another girl in what felt like _forever_. They talked. Talked late into the night. Talking with Isabela was different than talking to Merrill. With Merrill things were delightful, but closer to small talk, but with the pirate conversation fluctuated from hysterical to deep every other hour.

She was just laughing at Isabela saying she'd seen Carver, of all people, at the Blooming Rose when she noticed she was watching her with a content small smile on her face.

"Isabela." She said, "You haven't fallen madly in love with me, have you?"

"Almost, precious." She purred. "But I get the feeling you don't swing my way."

"Would that I could."

"I'm glad you came to meet me." Isabela said. "It's good to talk like this. I know your type, you know. One of those people who smiles a lot, but it doesn't _always_ meet their eyes."

"Did my brother put you up to this?" Mads knocked back the last of her third glass of wine. She was handling it rather nicely for someone who never drank.

"Of course not." She scoffed. "I just thought you looked like you needed some girl talk. Sisterly talk. It's different from talking with brothers... or dwarves."

"It's nice to know you're secretly a big softy."

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for doe eyed, slightly clueless, virgins. Anyway, enough of that kind of talk, _do_ tell me about Garret's... early encounters."

There were enough of them to carry them on very, very late.


	4. Chapter 4 - Deep Roads

Chapter Four:

Deep Roads

Watching Bartrand and Varric exist in the same space was disarming. Mads couldn't for the life of her work out just _how_ they were so different. Even Carver and Garret shared traits, or at the very least quirks.

That morning had been tense. Their mother knew they were planning to speak to Bartrand today, and leave as soon as they were able, but as she watched Carver and Mads pack their rucksacks her eyes grew wider and wider, she held her tongue though. Garret was trying to lighten the mood by teasing Gamlen, and it looked like he'd finally decided to bring Kaz with him.

"He's the best Darkspawn destroyer we've got, after all." He said, scratching behind her ears.

And now, Mads stood between Garret and Anders while Bartrand gave a little speech.

"We've chosen one of the hidden entrances. The Deep Roads there will be nice and virginal, ready for a good deflowering, Hah!" He strode back and forth as he spoke, but Mads pulled a face at his words.

Isabela, who had come to see them off, poked her in the side and whispered "_Like you._"

"It'll take a week for us to get to the depth we need, and there are bound to be leftover Darkspawn from the Blight."

Mads gripped the strap of her rucksack, not particularly interested in what Bartrand had to say. Her brother still hadn't decided which of them he would take, but they all knew it couldn't be both, not if he were to bring Anders.

She couldn't begrudge him that. It made sense to bring Anders. He had more experience with Darkspawn and Deep Roads than any of them, and he'd become a very reliable friend and healer since meeting him. Her brother trusted him implacably.

"Big risks, big rewards!" Bartrand crossed his arms and there were some consenting nods from the company.

"Maker, it sounds like so much fun." Mads whined.

"Trust me, the Deep Roads is the complete opposite." Anders whispered to her. He hadn't wanted to go, but at her brother's behest he'd agreed. She was grateful to him, but also there was a twinge of jealousy there. _She_ wanted to see a Thiag. She wanted to find ancient dwarven treasures. She wanted to at the very least look at an entrance to the Deep Roads before she died. Wanted to keep an eye on Garret's back while he cast spells, as was her usual job.

"We shouldn't take any needless risks." Garret said. When it came down to serious business like his family's future he was less inclined towards jokes.

"This isn't a foolish endeavor. This will work!" Bartrand replied, and then. "Now, before we... wait. Who invited the old woman?"

Their mother stepped into sight. The lines in her forehead seemed deeper. She'd been worrying. Mads could picture her now, pacing back and forth trying to convince herself to stay out of it, that her children were adults and knew what they were doing.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ser Dwarf, but I need to speak with my children."

Carver rolled his eyes, but Garret and Mads went over to her quietly.

"Mother, no. We talked about how important this is." He said, but his face looked pained as well. None of them liked to disappoint her.

"I just want to know one thing:," She said, directly to her oldest. "Are you planning on taking them with you?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on his mothers face. Mads' heart ached. She wondered if he was thinking of Bethany. He still blamed himself, of course, he blamed himself whenever any of them got hurt. She could still remember the time she slipped on some rocks by a river as a child, and Garret desperately apologizing to her while their father healed her broken arm because he should've been holding her hand to make sure she didn't fall. Then, he glanced back at Mads.

"I'm taking Carver." He said, more to her than to their mother. Mads blew out her cheeks and sighed. Of course he would take Carver, she didn't know why she'd even entertained thinking differently.

Carver glanced at her too, almost apologetically.

"I'm going." He said. "It'll be fine."

"It's not fine!" Their mother bust out instantly. "You can't _both_ go! What if something were to happen to you?"

She paused and struggled for words to convince them.

"_You_ I understand wanting to do this. But leave your brother here, I beg you!" Her voice was desperate. Mads knew if it were her Mother were addressing she would've caved. She wasn't good at directly disobeying their mother, she was more the sneak out and pretend nothing ever happened kind.

"I said I'm going. Besides, if we're so bloody afraid of templars, Mads should go with me and _he_ should hide." Carver said.

Mads perked up at this idea, but one look from her mother shut her down.

"Don't be ridiculous! Oh, you can't do this! Neither of them can go! My only girl, and my youngest boy!"

"Well, you're not going to be able to take everyone, anyhow. You'll need to decide." Bartrand snapped from aside.

The rest of the company had started mumbling amongst themselves, but Varric and Anders kept glancing over, vaguely concerned. Isabela looked bored.

And decide he did. Garret would be accompanied by Varric, of course, and then Anders, and Carver.

Mads stood by their mother, fidgeting uncomfortably. Too many things were running through her mind. That it made sense to take Carver, because Garret had Varric to pick locks anyway, and would likely need his brother's extra brute strength rather than his sister's support. That both her brothers were _leaving her behind_ to go somewhere of legendary danger. That if anything happened to them, it would be her, left alone grieving, to take care of their Mother. That anything bad could happen to them at all made her feel dizzy and ill.

And then, selfishly and childishly, that she wanted to go too.

She almost wanted to try and convince Garret to take Fenris or Aveline instead. But they didn't know the reclusive elf well enough yet, and Aveline had so many other commitments Garret hadn't felt right to ask her.

"Carver, I beg you! Don't go, don't do this." Their mother gripped at his shirt a little, looking helpless.

Mads looked to Garret, who watched her for a moment before offering her a small smile. It was a quite asking for forgiveness. She gave him a quick one back, but still turned her head away. She didn't want to cry in front of everyone.

Carver was murmuring quietly to their mother, to sooth her, but she pulled away from him and only cast Garret one look of despair before strolling away, her composure beginning to break.

"Brother..." Mads began quietly. If their mother wouldn't give him a good bye, she would.

"You won't find a husband that pouting like that." He said, reaching out to yank at her ponytail. She pulled away, not in the mood for humorous banter. She looked at him hopelessly.

"Really, we'll be okay. You've got to keep an eye on Mother for us and-"

He paused, because she had thrown herself at him and wrapped her arms around his chest. He was too tall to hug properly, and hugging him like this made her feel like a little girl again.

"Just don't die or something, alright?"

"Of course not. Now get off me before people begin to think I've got feelings." He pushed her away, and tapped her under the chin with his knuckle.

She said good bye to Carver next, and he wrapped her into a big, but quick, hug, making a joke about how he'd make sure to grab her a Darkspawn head as a souvenir.

Mads looked to Varric next, who nodded at her, respectfully, a mutual understand passing between them. He'd known how badly she wanted to go more than anyone, to watch out for her brothers _and_ have a unique adventure. When he told this story she wouldn't be part of it, and that made her insides twist.

"Don't worry, Little Hawke. I'll take care of them." He was rarely serious when he spoke and so this made her feel better. A little.

"You'd best come back, too Varric. I refuse to be widowed so young."

Bartrand snorted, and Varric waved. Anders, touched her arm and said good bye too, assuring her that there wasn't a wound under the sun he couldn't heal. She didn't damper his attempt to comfort her by mentioning that where they were going, there was no sun.

The company left, Garret glanced back at her once as she went, and his eyes flicked momentarily to Isabela, who hooked her arm around Mads' neck.

"Urgh, that's enough sappy drama to last me the rest of the year. How about the Hanged Man? Maybe we can find someone to _deflower_ you, or at the very least you can give us a song."

Mads pouted, but let the pirate pull her away all the same.

* * *

Varric had learned about the Hawke sibling dynamic very quickly over the past few months.

Carver resented Hawke's shadow, and Hawke resented being resented while simultaneously feeling guilty about his magic, and being unable to protect their other sister. Madrigal had told him about Bethany one night when she'd come to hear a story. She had been Carver's twin, and by all accounts sounded like a truly gentle human being.

Madrigal acted as a peace-keeping string that kept them tied together. In fact, she was almost the only thing the brothers seemed to have in common other than their black hair and firm jaw lines.

Watching them now, without Madrigal there for them to tease, made him realise just how deteriorated the brother's relationship was. Each time one would offer a word of comfort to the other, he would be shot down, and leave the other one sulking. Carver was naturally sulky, of course. He scowled and kicked things when he was mad. On the other hand, it was harder to tell with Hawke, who carried on like everything was normal yet systematically ignored his younger brother.

One thing was becoming exceptionally clear. Without the Littlest Hawke here, _he_ was going to have to take on the roll of peace-keeper.

He thought of her saying good bye to them then, pretty eyes wide and sad when they started to walk away from her. It was rare for the three Hawkes to be apart, he realised. The only times he saw them separately was when Hawke or Little Hawke visited him, and perhaps very rarely when they were running errands.

"What must it have been like, I wonder." Anders muttered to him.

"What's that, Blondie?"

"Those three, together, _constantly_. A family with three apostates, always on the run and moving from place to place."

"You think they didn't have any friends?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Apostates don't usually travel outside the safety of their families, too much fear." The mage said thoughtfully. "Our dysfunctional little group could be the first time any of them have had friends."

Varric knew Hawke had had friends. Or at least, friendly acquaintances who warmed his bed. Carver too. But now that he thought of it, Mads had never mentioned anyone other than her brothers when she told him stories of their childhood. A pit settled in his stomach, a small dash of uncertainty and then a realisation.

Other than her brothers, Varric must have been Mads' first friend.

He almost laughed out loud then. _Well that's just peachy_, he thought. _I've taken away that girl's brothers and her closest friend._

He sent a bolt flying, whistling through the air and striking a Darkspawn through the throat just as it was about to slam Garret's head with it's mace.

_We'd better get them through this, Bianca._

* * *

It had been a week since her brothers left, and Mads had been keeping herself busy by finishing off some business Garret hadn't had time for. Isabela, Fenris and Merrill were usually happy to accompany her on these tasks.

Merrill walked straight into her back, squeaking in alarm when she came to a sudden halt.

"We're not lost again, are we?" Isabela groaned.

"I'm just so used to following Garret around that I guess I never learned how to, you know, find places."

"Who?" Merrill chirped. She really was like a bird, with her musical voice and feathery cloak.

"Garret? My brother? You know, tall, sarcastic, hero complex..."

"_Oh_, you mean Hawke!"

"We shouldn't be so out in the open." Fenris said. He wasn't so light hearted as his peers. Mads felt for him, she really did, she couldn't imagine the fear he must feel, but Maker she wish he'd lighten up.

"Listen, we could-"

"You!"

Mads spun around in fright, only to come face to face with Sebastian Vael. His hand shot out and curled around her forearm to keep her from running. What were the chances? Here? Now? She looked around. They were outside the Chantry. She swore.

"We need to talk." He looked serious, and suddenly she felt like a school girl being chided. She imagined he had that effect on people.

"My, My, _My." _Isabela said, eyeing the minor physical contact. "Mad-ri-gal, what will your brothers say?"

"_Isabela_." Mads said, exasperated, "It's not what you think."

"Oh, why can't it be for once? That skin, those cheek bones _and_ he's a prince." The pirate wiggled her eyebrows. Sebastian didn't blush, but Mads did, a slight pink tingeing her cheeks she tried to tug her arm away from him, but he held her firmly. He didn't respond at all to the implications.

"I remember you." He said. "You're a friend of Master Hawkes. You helped him kill the mercenaries."

"I may have." She watched him quietly for a moment, amber eyes wandering between the prince and Mads, assessing the situation.

"My suggestion would be that you unhand her." Fenris growled lowly. They weren't the closest of friends but she had been getting the airy feeling that Garret might've spoken to Fenris and Isabela about keeping an eye on her.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows at the elf, but didn't say anything, instead he looked to Mads.

"You won't run?"

"I swear."

He released her, and she stayed true to her word, merely brushing off her shirt where he'd been holding her.

"My apologies... but I need to speak with you and I thought..." His eyes flicked to her companions, all of whom were watching curiously. "Alone, preferably."

Isabela was practically buzzing with assumptions that Mads would undoubtedly have to spend hours refuting later that night. She began to make an excuse as to why she couldn't go with him, but the pirate jumped in.

"We'll return the ring, Madrigal." She simpered, holding it up so it shone in the sunlight. Mads' hand flew to the pouch she'd had it in. Isabela had pinched it. "This is clearly _very_ important. Meet you later, precious."

She shoved Fenris, who gave her a withering look, and Merrill trotted along behind her asking what was happening.

Mads was alone with Sebastian Vael. This was exactly where she didn't want to be. The only place she wanted to be less was alone with Eren and his templar brute friends.

He beckoned her to follow him, and she did, realising uncomfortably that she couldn't risk upsetting a man who knew her secret. Not after their last run in. He led her around the Chantry, into it's gardens, and slowed his walk to a stroll. There was no one around. All the sisters would be inside for the afternoon service. She trailed along behind him, hesitant, fingers twitching towards her daggers.

"Have you been given anymore trouble by those templars?" He asked. He looked straight ahead instead of back at her. Didn't he know she could stab him right now if she wanted to? Did he trust his Maker so much?

"No. I've managed." She replied curtly.

He looked at her then, and she met his gaze as though challenging him to push her.

"Templars Eren, Hank and Wills were found dead four days ago." He crossed his arms.

Mads' mouth fell open. She only just managed to stop herself from cheering. Dead. _Dead_. The templars who knew about her brother were _dead_. She'd only seen Eren three times since Sebastian had saved her that night, and each time she'd parted with 15 sovereigns. She'd made sure to meet him in well-lit Hightown areas, of course, not that it mattered anymore.

A huge weight left her. She felt visibly lighter. Like she'd been slouching for days and days on end and had just stretched herself out. Everything looked brighter, as well, she actually felt like she had time to stop and observe her surroundings.

No more staying out night after night scrounging up those last few pieces of gold. Lying to her mother, and brothers, when they caught her coming in late, pinching silvers from Garret's savings pouch and blaming it on Gamlen.

She could breathe again.

"Judging from your expression I would guess you didn't know." Sebastian sounded surprised.

Her exuberance faltered. "You thought _I_ killed them?"

She was about to launch into a rant about how if she could get away with killing three templars on her own she might've done it already, but he shook his head.

"All evidence points towards blood magic."

She paused.

"Hazard of their job, I would think." She said.

He watched her with narrowing eyes. If he had fallen for her damsel in distress act in the first place, he was certainly suspicious of her now.

He cleared his throat.

"Their service was held in the Chantry two days ago. I recognized them, and began searching for you." Sebastian stopped walking and turned to face her, she almost walked straight into him. "Your family member..."

"It wasn't." She said instantly. "Even if he were weak enough to fall for demons, he's away."

"I... don't know if I can believe you." He frowned and scratched the back of his head. "Could there be a chance that he found out, and killed them in a rage for trying to take advantage of you?"

"No." She said. "Serah Vael, I swear. Killing templars isn't something he'd do, even with a reason."

"You lied to me before." The prince said pointedly. "Didn't you? Judging by your new attire, and your friends, I would say you do okay for yourself."

He wasn't wrong. The presence of her new companions had opened up many more work opportunities, and after her brothers had left she'd been splashing out on new gear. She still looked scruffy – hair unkempt, shirt slightly dirty, mud stained boots, but overall her daggers, vest and belt were of a better quality.

She juggled her options. She could reveal who her brother was to him, and hope that his opinion of Garret was high enough not to report them, or keep on lying and pray to the Maker that he let her off. He was clearly smarter than she'd originally anticipated.

"I did lie to you." She said carefully. "But not entirely. And not without reason. I just needed your sympathy."

"Never mind." He rubbed his temples, frustrated. "You must understand my position. Three men are dead, and I'm only one with any sort of lead."

"I didn't have anything to do with it. Neither did my family. _Please_. If you take me to the Knight-Commander my brother will be taken away." She was becoming desperate now, plotting how she could get out of this. As soon as she'd felt free she was trapped again, though this time to someone whose sense of justice would ruin her. The only thing she had working for her was one simple fact: if Sebastian was telling her all this now, then he hadn't told anyone else yet. There was some part of him that wondered if turning her in was the right thing to do.

"I'm sorry."

Mads looked at his face. The face of a man who had lost his entire family, and saved her only months before, and who had the audacity, one might even call it honor, to come to her and gently let her know he was planning on ruining her life before actually doing it.

She lunged.

He was prepared.

The prince grabbed her wrist as she swung her fist towards his head, and twisted it around. She lashed her leg between his and tripped him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Mads had to admit, she'd had more graceful fights before, but this man was an archer, and close range was what she did best.

His grip on her wrist was hard, but she drew one of her daggers with her other hand. He grabbed that wrist too, rolling them over so that she was pinned under him and he had the advantage. With no hands left to keep her still with, she head butted him, _hard_. He released her unarmed hand and she used the opportunity to push him off of her.

Sebastian's armor was sharp, and pressed into her skin. She grabbed her dagger out of her trapped hand with her free one, but instead of stabbing him directly and getting her wrist trapped again, she flicked it between his armor and sliced several buckles, then leapt off of him, but he followed in a flurry, his chest piece now dangling off him, giving her more area to stab.

Someone was bleeding, but she couldn't figure out who. They were all flying limbs, battling for control. Sebastian was trying to grab her arms, her body, _anything_, to keep her contained, while she was just trying to inflict as much damage as possible. Her hair had come loose and begun to get in her way, obscuring her vision.

The prince somehow worked his way behind her, and pinned her arms to her sides, pressing painfully into a pressure point on her hand so that her dagger fell to the ground.

"Calm down!" He hissed right in her ear. "You need to calm down."

She tried to elbow him, but while she was blind rage he was calculating and cool and held her fast and strong. Her muscles were burning from all the sudden exertion and she began to stop struggling, furious with herself, and with him, and with templars, and with mages, and with her father for dying and lastly with her brothers, for leaving her with all this over-whelming responsibility.

She was panting heavily, and so was he, she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

"You... can't... turn... me in." She said between breaths, even though she'd probably just given him more than enough reason to.

"You tried... to kill me!" Sebastian said. He hadn't lightened his grip. He clearly didn't trust her anymore.

"You didn't leave me much choice!"

"If I was unsure before I'm almost certain now. You were involved with those templar's deaths." He snarled. "I was a fool to trust you in the first place."

_Almost_ certain.

"Let me prove it." She said suddenly, anger subsiding slightly as she formed the idea. She could feel something warm and wet trickling down her arm, and knew it was blood. She'd have to get her injuries treated non-magically later on without Anders around to patch her up. Maybe she'd have a scar for once.

He chuckled, mockingly. The movement vibrated through her. "Prove it how?"

"I'll find out who killed them. Prove it wasn't me, or my brother."

A weighted silence followed this while Sebastian considered it. She didn't imagine he would, he had no reason to. She racked her head for some kind of verse she could use to convince him. Something about the Maker being forgiving, or requiring evidence, _anything_. But she'd never paid much attention when Mother tried to get her to remember them, her head was too filled with the lyrics of songs and the words of stories.

"I can't let you out of my sight." He said. "If it was you, or your brother, you might run."

"I know."

"So we figure this out together." He released her, and she stumbled forward, surprised. She didn't ask him why, instead she steadied herself and then turned to look at him.

He was covered in dry dust from the ground beneath them. She knew she must've been the same. His upper lip was split, and a bruise was forming on his cheek. His chest plate hung off him side ways, but he looked mostly unharmed.

Mads glanced at her arm and saw a long thin cut there, dripping blood slowly down her arm. She picked up the scrap of dark blue fabric she used to tie up her hair and wrapped it around her cut instead. The prince was still tense, watching her carefully to make sure she didn't flee.

"We should treat that properly." He said, terribly calm considering she'd just tried to kill him. "It looks like a clean cut, so it shouldn't scar."

"Your armor's as sharp as it is shiny."

Sebastian didn't laugh, but she thought he saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

"Come. Let's get cleaned up, and then start this investigation."

* * *

The sisters were beside themselves when they saw the pair. Service had just finished, the congregation barely departed, and they were swarmed with robed women fussing over them.

"Oh, _Sebastian_. What happened?" One of them said, gazing at Mads.

He hesitated. "It's..."

"Your Sebastian saved me." Mads said, "He was so brave, Sisters, so brave. I was jumped by a whole gang and he intervened and saved me, just as I was beginning to think the Maker had abandoned me."

The sisters ooh'ed and ahh'ed, and Sebastian gave her a prudish look. She wasn't sure on his policy on lying, but she did remember Garret saying he was a brother of the Chantry who simply had yet to renew his vowels. That was fine, she would simply have to do the lying for them.

It didn't take long for the sisters to clean them up. They even took Mads out back and gave her a bath, murmuring sympathetic words, even washing her hair, and thanking the Maker kind Sebastian had been walking by when he did. They washed her clothes while she bathed, and treated her wound while she dried off.

It was a strange and wonderful experience, being pampered like this. She was beginning to think she should wander into the Chantry after being 'attacked' more often.

Bruises were beginning to form on her wrists where Sebastian had grabbed them, as well as on her shoulder where she'd hit the ground. There were marks on her sides as well. It had been a long time since she'd had a physical altercation where the other person had _actually_ gotten a hit on her. She chalked it up to her anger clouding her mind, though she had to admit Sebastian wasn't the soft kind of prince who cowered behind his crown away from combat. He clearly had experience. Her face remained unmarked. She found herself wondering what kind of Prince would be so capable in a scrappy fight like that one. Most of them, if they were trained at all, were trained to lead honorably and under strict military rule, not fist and dagger bar brawls.

The sisters churned her out good as new, sinfully proud of themselves. An Orlesian one showed her a new way to do her hair to keep it from unraveling so easily.

"But it'll be pretty as well!" She gushed, it was a loose braid with a fancy Orlesian name she knew she wouldn't remember.

One of them had even sewed up the holes and cuts in her shirt's sleeves. It was too big for her, they noted and offered to take it in. She told them it was her brothers.

They gave her instructions to change the dressing on her wound that night, and promised it wasn't serious, just a light cut.

When she was dressed they took her back to Sebastian, who was standing guard to make sure she couldn't make a break for it. He'd washed up as well, fixed and cleaned his armor, but the bruise on the lower half of his face had darkened considerably.

After saying good bye to the sisters she turned to Sebastian.

"They're very..."

"Generous?" He raised an eyebrow. "The sisters of the Chantry are usually raised here from birth. It's a mark of pride to show kindness to others."

"Is pride not against the Maker?" It was a genuine question.

The prince looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said "If one asks for forgiveness, the Maker wouldn't judge those who are doing His work."

He glanced down at her.

"You're not of Faith?"

"I'm not _not_ of faith. I've just never found it to help me in the past." She was uncomfortable. Sebastian, for all his holiness, gave off an air of judgment as harsh as his justice. He seemed to believe in black and white. Ultimate Good and Ultimate Evil. While she was more of a grey area kind of person.

"Well," He said. "You may find Him helpful to you in the coming days. Shall we go and prove your innocence?"

Mads scowled at his tone, nodded once, and led the way.


	5. Chapter 5 - Work

Chapter Five:

Work

Turns out there weren't a lot of places in Kirkwall a chantry prince couldn't get. Even an exiled one. He was soft spoken, but authoritative, and people responded to that in ways Mads knew they never would for her. She wasn't _un_charming, her charm was just a little more... less refined. The kind of charm that worked on brothers and pirates, rather than templars and noblemen.

There first stop was, naturally, the Gallows. There was no doubt blood magic had played a part in the murders, Sebastian insisted. They had to find out if any mages had escaped the Circle recently, and were still at large.

"Knight-Captain Cullen." Mads said brightly. She'd met him once during her brother's dealings, and she knew him to be just but fair. He wasn't stupid, she was sure he was suspicious of Garret and yet he had kept his lips tightly sealed.

Still, when he saw her a weathered look flittered across his face. Sebastian raised an eyebrow, but she just grinned sheepishly.

"Serah Madrigal." He said, suspiciously, like he knew nothing good could come from having a Hawke on his doorstep. "I trust your brother's expedition is going well."

"The Deep Roads don't exactly do postage, Serah."

"Of course not. How can I be of service?"

He was oddly like Sebastian in his business manner, but the prince seemed just a little bit more likely to lighten up than the templar.

"We're here about the three templars who were recently killed." Sebastian explained, "Eren, Hank and Wills."

"Yes." Cullen replied curtly, his eyes flicking to Mads. She stiffened, heart pulsing painfully in her chest as realisation begun to trickle down her spin. "You have my thanks for the service, Sebastian. The recruits have been..."

Her breathing slowed as Cullen continued to prattle on about the state of the Templar Order with three of their own gone, but she wasn't listening. She'd let Sebastian bring her straight to the templars without a second thought. She blinked. She had trusted him completely, without a second thought, this prince she knew nothing about who not hours ago had been planning to tear her family apart.

Mads had never felt so stupid in her life. Her hand twitched over her dagger, and-

Sebastian coughed, deep in his throat, pretending to knock her shoulder with his elbow as he raised his hand to cover his mouth, she snapped out of survival mode and looked at him with her brow creased.

His eyes were piercing through her, a steady warning, a flash of sympathy. He'd read her thoughts as though she'd spelled them out to him, and when she looked at him she could read his too.

He wasn't going to betray her.

"You wouldn't make a terrible templar yourself, Sebastian. You have the skills for it, and you would be serving the Maker in a different way."

Sebastian's gaze snapped back to Cullen.

"I'm afraid I have to decline, Knight-Captain. We're here to investigate the murders." He replied in his polite tone.

"A shame." Cullen said. "Anyway, we have our own templars investigating, as it was the work of blood mages."

"We're being paid by a third party." Mads cut in, smoothly. "Family who would prefer to remain unnamed."

He didn't look impressed.

"We only need to know if there've been any escaped mages recently who might've had cause to harm them." Sebastian was frowning slightly now, like he'd expected a much more compliant Knight-Captain. Judging from how casually Cullen addressed Sebastian Mads wondered if they were friends.

Cullen sighed. "I suppose the more heads working this the better. Losing three templars may not seem like a lot, but every recruit counts. Besides, I've you and your brother do have a knack for getting jobs done."

Mads was sorely tempted to fill him in on the caliber of the recruits he was currently talking about. What would he think, she wondered, if he found out how they'd blackmailed her?

But of course she couldn't tell him. Not without explaining exactly how the blackmail had taken place.

"Unfortunately, I can't be much help. There have been no relevant escapes for months. I can tell you the names of the templars working the case, perhaps and then..."

"How about the victims rooms? Can we have access to those?" She asked, an idea forming in her mind.

The Knight-Captain considered this. "Normally, I'd say no, however..." His eyes washed over Sebastian, "I believe the two of you together can be trusted."

Mads wasn't sure whether or not she should be insulted, but she felt mild amusement nonetheless. Her reputation preceded her.

"Thank you, Serah Cullen. We'll let you know as soon as we find anything." Sebastian smiled gratefully, rows of straight white teeth glinting in the sunlight. Was there anything about him that wasn't princely?

* * *

"Suggesting we look through their rooms was a good idea." Sebastian said after Cullen had left them to their investigation. They stood in Eren's room. He was the instigator of all of Mads' troubles, and she took great pleasure in seeing how cramped and simple his living situations were.

A narrow bed against one wall, a small shelf and a desk, templars didn't exactly live lives of luxury inside their Order. It was nicer than her hovel, of course. It was clean, and well looked after. She hadn't pegged Eren for the homey type, but she supposed the Templar's Order _was_ a military organization, after all.

She set about searching immediately, pondering how lucky she was Cullen hadn't referred to her brother or family by name, while Sebastian began to pull books from the shelf and flick through them for some kind of clue.

There was silence. They both knew the kind of thing they were looking for. Any kind of implication against Eren, any kind of motive, any kind of indicator they could find that would help them get the dangerous people who had killed the templars off the streets and- _Oh, there it is!_ Mads thought gleefully as she checked the underside of the bed.

Tucked in the corner, tied into the bed supports, was a small leather pouch. Her money.

She snatched it up. The cut on her arm from earlier burned a little as she put pressure on it to roll out, and when she got to her feet she opened it and poured the contents onto her hand, grinning as she did so. When she glanced up to tell Sebastian of her good news, she found the prince watching her from the book shelf, a book in his hands.

"What?" She said innocently, coins chinking in her hand as she slipped them back into the pouch. She wasn't going to share with him.

"Stealing is a crime." He said, disapprovingly. She rolled her eyes, unsure if she should even justify that with a response. "Is the reason you suggested we search the rooms so you could steal from the dead?"

_Why, you..._

"There's only 11 sovereigns here anyway, and he's certainly not going to be using them. Besides, where do you think he got them from in the first place?" She motioned to herself, and turned her back on him to begin rifling through Eren's desk.

"Greed is a sin." He insisted, his voice was harsh and judgmental. He was certainly a strange one. He was a chantry brother's kind-heart, a prince's entitlement, and a Maker's harsh judgment all rolled up into one. He would've made a good King.

"Your vows, not mine." She mumbled. Usually she would just brush something like this off with a joke, but something about him was getting under her skin. She tied the pouch to her belt, next to the others.

He seemed to deem it wise not to press the matter, and an uneasy silence fell between them except for the rustling of papers and sounds of training drifting in from the courtyard below the dorms.

It went on like this for a few minutes before Sebastian finally broke it.

"I don't have vows... currently." It was such a strange piece of information to offer, and he sounded so conflicted in giving it, in opening the door for their somewhat strained temporary professional relationship to advance towards friendship, that she decided to bite.

"Did you get exiled from the chantry too?" She quipped, glancing at him to make sure his exiling was a topic that was okay to poke fun at just a little.

He let out a breathy laugh, and then "No, not quite."

The bruise she'd given him on his handsome face had darkened, and she couldn't help but be a bit impressed with herself, and then a little guilty for lashing out at him in the first place. Really, what had he done since they'd met? Saved her from some templars? Warned her before trying to do the 'right' thing? Given her a change to prove her innocence? She was too harsh on him.

"Where have they gone then, your vows?"

"I forsook them." He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, a flash of guilt. "To find out who murdered my family, and take revenge."

He cringed on the word revenge, too.

Mads stayed quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Losing Bethany had been so hard. Even harder considering none of them had really been given the time to grieve her, they'd had to start doing smuggling work the second they set foot in Kirkwall. Garret had been robotic for the better half of the year, only really perking up after they met Varric and the others. Carver was so sour. Their mother was so strong. She was so... empty. Like the ogre had delicately pried her open and taken out a piece of her heart that was reserved for her sister when it'd killed her.

She couldn't imagine what he felt.

"I'll have them renewed. Grand Cleric Elthina is understanding in these matters."

The Grand Cleric had been very kind to her mother, too.

"I'm sorry about your family, Sebastian." She said, and she meant it. She looked at him properly then, sheepish for not saying it sooner.

"Thank you, Madrigal." The R rolled over his tongue and she found a blush creeping to her cheeks at the unexpected emotional situation, and looked away. She felt like she had to share something with him not, but she didn't want to.

"My friends call me Mads." Was all she could manage, avoiding his eyes. She wondered if he smiled when she said that.

There was a clatter and a metallic thunk behind them, like the sound of someone dropping a broad sword. They sprang to action. Mads whirled around, dagger in hand, Sebastian had his bow drawn and an arrow notched, pointed directly at the door, but it wasn't for close range, so she darted in front of him and threw the bedroom door open. Anyone skulking around a victims room trying to listen in on their conversation was suspicious in her books.

"You shouldn't-" Sebastian started. She only glanced at him with an eyebrow quirked to quiet him down. You didn't have to be a tactical genius to know she was better up front in this situation.

It hadn't been a sword that had been dropped. It was a two handed hammer. Mads recognized it. What, or rather, who she didn't recognize, was the scrawny elf girl trying to pull the monstrous thing back into her arms.

"Don't move." Mads snapped. The girl was wearing Circle robes, her hair was wild and her eyes were terrified. Aside to Sebastian she informed: "That's Ellis' hammer."

"We won't harm you." Sebastian said. _Speak for yourself_. Mads wouldn't just attack her without reason, but if it was the difference between this girl and Garret's freedom, well...

"Please, Messeres." The girl's face was bone dry, but it didn't look like it would stay that way for long. "It's not how it looks."

"Then tell us how it is." Mads slipped her daggers back into their sheaths. Sebastian kept his arrow notched, but lowered it just a little. There was no telling how powerful this girl was without Anders or Garret there to gage it. She could be the blood mage they were looking for, no matter how unassuming she looked.

The girl shook pathetically.

"What's your name, child?" Sebastian asked kindly. It was the same tone of voice he'd used when he'd first saved Mads from those templars all those months ago.

"I was only trying to get some money back for me Mam." She whispered. "They... please don't tell the templars. Messeres, _please_ don't tell them. We're not allowed in the Order buildings, and if they find out... Meredith she's not kind she'll..."

Mads groaned. Of course they were blackmailing more than just her. She glanced back at Sebastian, who looked as unimpressed as she was.

"Tell us everything."

* * *

**AN: Hi guys! Thanks so much for the reviews so far! Given the amount of traffic I've been getting, people must be starving for some more Sebastian/OC stories. I would 100% encourage anyone who writes to start their own as well. Let's get some more Seb love out there!**

**This chapter feels short to me. Usually I make them monstrous sizes, but I've been refraining from doing so because readers seem to respond to more shorter shapers better than than smaller big chapters. I'll probably upload the next one before the week is over. **

**I'm a people pleaser. The more reviews I get the more likely I am to update, I work a little better under pressure, so please let me know what you think! ;)**

**- Wes**


	6. Chapter 6 - Bloody Work

**AN: Hello, everyone! Hope you enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to review so that I know to keep going! I snuck in a quote from another fandom, see if you can spot it. ;)**

**- Wes**

* * *

Chapter Six:

Bloody Work

Her name was Elsa, an unusual name for an elf. She was born in the Alienage, and dragged away to the Circle when she was eleven. It was the same old story Mads had heard a hundred times before. She could only imagine the moody outrage if Anders were here, no doubt he'd try to start a riot in that very hallway.

They had taken her back into Eren's room to keep her out of sight, Mads had embarrassed herself by trying to pick up the hammer and drag it in with them, and though she didn't struggle as much as Elsa had, it was clear that it would've taken her awhile to drag it in. She was shame faced as she watched the relative ease Sebastian picked it up. Even if he was lithe, he would always trump her in upper body strength.

"Ser Hank was the meanest one." Elsa sniffled. "Ser Eren was greedy, but he never hurt anyone properly, not like Hank did."

"Did they hurt you?" Sebastian asked quietly. The atmosphere was thick with the sorrow Elsa was projecting. Mads shifted uncomfortably. She couldn't get her sister out of her mind, the idea that Beth could've been sitting exactly where Elsa was had she ever been turned into the Circle made her feel sick. Garret, too.

"Me Mam paid them not to." Elsa bit her lip. "They told her they'd make me tranquil."

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Elsa... but these templars were abusing their authority, why didn't you report them to the Knight-Captain or even Meredith?" The prince's brow creased a little when he asked this, and Mads scoffed because the reason why was blindingly obvious. Sebastian's world view was narrow.

"Knight-Captain Cullen is kind to us." The elf girl said, hesitantly. "But..."

"But so are the others, I'm sure." Mads said. She sat down on the bed next to the girl and pulled her knees up to her chest. "You can't tell which ones will hurt you and which ones won't."

The irony that that was the exact reason there was a Circle in the first place was not lost on her. Elsa started to cry again. Sebastian looked pained. _He doesn't like it when girl's cry._

"P-please don't turn me in, Messere!"

"We won't." Mads wrapped an arm around the girl, and she tucked her head into her shoulder and wept.

"But... you shouldn't have tried to steal." Mads shot Sebastian an appalled look. As though the girl could be blamed. "If you don't feel like you can go to the templars, you should come to the Chantry or the city guards..."

"He doesn't _understand_." Elsa cried, and then to Mads: "Please don't let him turn me in!"

"He won't!" She insisted, glaring at Sebastian over the girl's shoulder. He had the audacity to look guilty, but he was so stubborn she that his opinion wouldn't change even if she started an argument about it. "Elsa, we're trying to find out who killed Eren and his friends. If you know anything at all, you should tell us. Don't be afraid of the templars. We can protect you."

For once in her life, the subject was mages and templars and Mads was telling the truth. The alien elf eyes that blinked back at her were far too trusting, but at least it was for their advantage.

"No one liked them, Messere." She said. Mads nodded vigorously, and Sebastian stilled, listening carefully now that there was information coming. "But all of us were too scared to... to do anything about it. None of us want to be Tranquil, they give me the shivers..." The youngest Hawke and the prince waited patiently. "W-we over heard a fight once, that is, me and some of my friends."

"Between who?" Sebastian asked. Elsa looked as though she might clam up again. For someone so kind and carefully worded he was imposing. He carried himself so much like a prince that people who weren't well-off or military were suspicious of him.

"The three who were murdered. They..." She struggled to find words. Inwardly, Mads was frustrated. Sympathetic to the girl's position, sure, but frustrated that she wouldn't just give them the information they needed.

"They were smuggling lyrium." She finally said, and Mads' eyebrows shot up, but Sebastian only nodded once, not looking surprised. Had he suspected? "... But they were working with new people, and Ser Willis didn't like it."

"New people?"

"Mages." She mumbled, glancing between them worriedly.

That didn't make any sense, not to Mads. What kind of mages on the outside would want to _help_ templars? And why would templars like Eren and his lot want to work with mages? And also, was this enough to convince the prince that the templars were involved in something far greater than her and her brother?

If Sebastian was wondering about the same things she was, he didn't betray it.

"Did they mention where they were keeping the lyrium?" He asked.

"They mentioned the Coast."

The Wounded Coast. Mads got to her feet and stretched, the little pouch of coins she'd taken from under Eren's bed chinked at her side and she glanced down at it with a sorrowful sigh.

Why did she have to have a conscience? Why couldn't she just be completely heartless all the time?

She pulled the pouch from her belt, and dropped it on Elsa's lap.

"If you hear anything else, tell Knight-Captain Cullen to come and find us." She said, or rather, ordered, not pleased she was parting with her coin after just getting it back. But, she supposed, when Garret got back it wasn't like 11 sovereigns would make a difference. Isabela would be beside herself when she told her. The pirate had an even stronger love for money than Mads, and probably would've only given the girl one or two of the gold pieces. She glanced at Sebastian, whose face was impassive. "... and _try_ not to steal anymore." She added begrudgingly. She stressed the 'try' because she knew how hard it was to stop once you started.

Elsa threw her arms around Mads' neck, mumbling thank yous, and that she was in her debt, and scampered from the room before either of them could stop her.

"Wait!" Sebastian called after her, but she was long gone, leaving the two of them standing in the doorframe glancing about the hall. "We could've asked her more questions."

"She's been in the Circle her whole life." Mads said. "She's probably never even been to The Wounded Coast."

"She's our only lead."

"Incorrect." Mads was feeling good now. She'd thought Sebastian was going to betray her to the templars, he hadn't. She'd thought they'd have to spend hours looking through Eren, Willis and Hank's rooms, but they didn't. She'd thought they'd been caught by a blood mage rifling through it's victims things, and they hadn't. Everything was coming up sunshine. "I know where to go next."

There was only one person in the whole city who knew everybody in the smuggling world's business, and Mads happened to be very well acquainted with her.

* * *

Sebastian followed her. She walked fast for such a small woman, but he shouldn't be surprised, she had fought fast too. He kept casting sneaky glances at her arm to make sure the cut he'd given her during their brawl wasn't bleeding through the bandage.

He had observed several intriguing tidbits about Madrigal. She was misguided, but not immoral. Smart, but not arrogant. Mysterious, but not cold. She reminded him subtly of some of the finer nobles he used to know before his parents had given him to the Chantry.

"That was a kind of you to do." He said, as they walked through Hightown. Sebastian was distinctly aware they were straying close to the Red Lantern District, where lay the Blooming Rose. There was still plenty of daylight left, but that didn't stop the prospect making him uncomfortable. If he got anywhere near brothels, he started getting flashes of his not so Brother like youth. _It's a den of iniquity._

"Why's that?" Madrigal's voice had a underlining tone of humor in it, like always. "Stealing isn't against the Maker if you give the money to someone less fortunate than you?"

"No, it is still a sin. It's just... also kind."

They rounded a corner, and he almost walked into her as she came to a sudden halt. He could see the gears whirling behind her eyes. She did this a lot. Thought. She was always pausing and thinking. Every time she did, he tensed up, afraid he was being played for a fool and she would make a break for it, but so far she hadn't.

She didn't trust him though. That bothered him. Back at the Gallows, he'd seen it plain as day on her face when they were talking to the Knight-Captain. She had done so much thinking she'd given herself cold feet, and had been on the brink of attacking them plain as day in front of hundreds of templars. He didn't doubt she could hold her own, but against that many?

She was only one girl.

"That's her." Madrigal muttered, straightening her shirt and facing him properly. She had told him of an elf, a smuggler (he had not been surprised she kept such company), who would know where they could find the lyrium, she now nodded her head in that elf's direction.

It was busy, despite the time of day. Whores were out dressed in their finery, flirting with nobles. This whole area felt like it should've been in Lowtown. Through the crowd he could see clearly who the smuggler was. She was armed.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked Madrigal carefully. She frowned.

"Well, Athenril and I didn't exactly leave off on good terms..." It was his turn to frown. "Perhaps you should wait here."

He laughed, shortly. "And let you rendezvous with a criminal friend right in front of me?"

"If I were going to run away from you I would've already. This place is _packed_. You wouldn't be able to keep up with me through the crowd." It made him uncomfortable that she had actually been thinking about it. "Just trust me a little, alright?"

_I only trust in the Maker_.

"Alright." She may think she could escape him in a crowd, but he had still had his bow. There was a tense shift between them when he agreed, Madrigal looked at him strangely, like she really hadn't been expecting him to, but she nodded and slinked away towards the smuggler.

Sebastian came a little closer, and leaned against a wall to watch. Nearby a young lady, dolled up in make up and a tight bodice winked and waggled her fingers at him. He blushed, thankful his tanned skin kept it hidden. He had never been the type to blush before. Though he only seemed to when they were the ones approaching him. He wondered if he still would if he were the one doing the winking...

_Blessed be Andraste, virgin Bride of the Maker..._

Madrigal was smiling at the smuggler, speaking hurriedly, but the elf – Athenril, was scowling with her arms crossed, giving her a damming look.

Sebastian drew his bow from his back and pretended to fiddle with the cord. He didn't fancy returning the girl to her friends any worse for wear. He'd already wounded her in their scuffle, to his never-ending shame. At least before he became a Brother he picked fights with men, though she _had_ attacked him first. The bruise on his face itched. He ignored it.

Madrigal looked a little more desperate now. The light caught in her braid as she swung it over her shoulder and burrowed around in one of her little pouches. Athenril looked smug. The girl dropped a few shiny coins into her hand, and after another short exchange of words he couldn't hear, Madrigal turned away from the elf looking exasperated. Her eyes scanned the walls for him.

"Bloody criminals. Proving my brother's innocence is costing me a fortune." She grumbled when she got to him.

"There is no price for freedom." He replied. He thought he'd heard the Grand Cleric say it once. Madrigal pulled a face, and he chuckled. "Did you find out?"

"It's not exactly good news." She said. "She didn't tell me much, only where to go. The cave is about a night and half a days journey away, but I know where it is."

Sebastian hummed. He had known finding their murderer wouldn't be easy, but now the task was looking bigger than before. She senses his hesitance.

"Sebastian, this is about more than just innocence now. They're using the lyrium to hurt people."

"My thoughts exactly. Perhaps involving the templars would be wiser than going ourselves."

The girl glowered at him. He didn't like it when she did that. He preferred when she was smiling up at him, or playfully teasing him, or even looking away from him with a thoughtful expression.

"Right." He said. "No templars."

He was going to regret this.

* * *

If you had asked Mads that morning what she thought she'd be doing, traipsing along the coast with an exiled prince turned vowless Chantry brother was not one of them.

Sebastian was a quiet companion. Only commenting occasionally on specific plants he saw that he recognized from his lessons as a boy, though she had spent the first half hour of their trip making fun of him for some flippant thing he'd said about the "beauty of the Maker's nature". It had just sounded so gung-ho and cheery, almost false, as though no one could be _that..._ Brother-like.

To his credit, he had let her tease, because it was only playful, and he even laughed a few times. At least he didn't take himself _too_ seriously.

Overall, getting out of Kirkwall felt _good_. The air was sweeter, despite the smell of salt from the ocean, and her lungs loved every second of it. For a while she even forgot about her brothers. She was having an adventure, without them, and she was thoroughly enjoying it.

It had an effect on Sebastian too. He loosened up, but only a little. He was more weary than anything else. His eyes were hawke-like. Constantly scanning the horizons for any sign of threat. The coast wasn't exactly a safe place, after all, and night was beginning to fall.

She had insisted they go as soon as possible instead of waiting till morning. She wasn't about to spend the night with Sebastian sitting at the foot of her bed to make sure she didn't run off with the chantry jewels.

"Madrigal."

_Call me Mads_. She wanted to say, but didn't. Instead she just made a small hum to show she was listening.

"We should stop for the night."

"We're so close." She said, worried that any moment they delayed was one in which whoever was waiting for them – if anyone – could escape.

"Dangers along the coast are even more active at night. We could walk straight off a cliff and drown without our sight."

"Won't the Maker just guide us to safety?"

He rolled his eyes. It was the first time she'd made him do it. It felt like a sort of victory on her part.

"The Maker rewards caution." He said. She swore he just made some of this stuff up, but eventually agreed to stop. They found a small area tucked away from the main road.

It wasn't cold, and starting a fire was risky with only the two of them there. They could attract anything out here. Beasts were easily dealt with, but if a pack of bandits came across them... Mads had faith in their abilities, but taken by surprise, at night where Sebastian's main skill was inhibited she didn't fancy the risk.

"You need to trust me more." Sebastian said suddenly, while she was setting up her bedroll.

"Uh, good night to you too?"

"I'm serious." He sat down, leaning against a rock.

"I've noticed."

"Madrigal."

She turned to look at him properly. He _was_ serious, if blue eyes could burn through her they were now. She gulped, feeling awfully a lot like she was being told off for something she didn't know she'd done.

"We don't know what we'll find in the cave. If we're to go into battle together, we should trust each other." He sounded less accusing now that she was looking at him. Well, he wasn't wrong.

"It's a little hard to trust someone you've just met, but..." She busied herself with pulling off her boots so she could slip into the bedroll. "I do. Trust you, that is. I wouldn't have come out here with you if I didn't."

It was the truth. There was no way in hell she would travel to The Wounded Coast alone with a man she didn't trust, especially one it had already been proven she couldn't overpower.

"Today you thought I'd tricked you. That I'd hand you over to the Knight-Captain." Was he... offended by that? "I understand you may not trust me as much as your brother, or friends, but I am worthy of it, Madrigal." Words so sincere they could sell a dwarf a rock.

"I bet you say that to all the Sisters." Mads said playfully, trying to lighten the mood a little. When he didn't look convinced, she changed tact. "I know you're trustworthy. Look, I'm about to go to _sleep_ next to you. You could tie me up and sell me, but I'm _trusting_ you not to." He looked horrified at the thought. She smiled. "Besides, I don't think you could hurt me even if you wanted too."

He let out a breathy laugh, a hand running through his hair as he relaxed. All his laughs were like that. Clipped, short, mildly amusement. She wondered if prince's had to learn to laugh politely too, to hold themselves back from booming belly aching laughs. Sebastian had a deep voice, and though his laugh suited his contained personality it didn't seem real. Was he happy?

"Where's your sleeping kit?" Mads asked as she slipped into hers. It wasn't very comfortable, but it did the trick.

"One of us should keep watch."

She frowned. "Yes, but when the other one takes over, how will you sleep?"

He would be too tall for hers, which she'd had since she was fourteen. She barely fit in it properly herself.

"You won't need to. Sleep." The prince's voice was softer and gentler now, like she were a child and he was putting her to bed. She was having none of that.

"Don't be ridiculous." She said. "I'm not a Chantry statue, Sebastian. I don't need to be dusted, polished and worshipped. We can take turns like regular people do."

He laughed at her comparison. And this time, it was better than before. More full. She could see his grin through the rapidly disappearing daylight, and it suited him. He had laugh lines around his eyes, she realised. He must've laughed a lot at one point in his life. She felt the sore temptation to ask about his family, but withheld, the wound would still be raw, and who was she for him to confide to anyway?

"Very well." Was all he said, but he didn't move. It seemed he wasn't in the mood for sharing. His eyes were glinting at her, amused.

"Well, now you seem foolish for not bringing anything to sleep on." She said. She, despite her rough around the edges ways, was a creature of comfort, and had brought an extra blanket in case it got cold. She threw it at him. He opened his mouth to protest. "Shush. Wake me up when it's my turn."

She rolled over, and brought her knees up to her chest, curled up like a dog might in front of a fireplace.

"Try trusting _me_ a little." She mumbled as the events of the day began to catch up with her. Her mind slowed, and her limbs felt heavy from the walk. Mads bit her lip, and smiled into her blanket. The reminders of his presence were comforting to her – the occasional movement, and his steady breathing sent her straight to sleep.


End file.
